Fire And Ice
by Yzba
Summary: I don’t think I knew my brother, not before he died and went to Hell for me. Dean’s in Hell, and Sam finally learns who his brother really was.
1. A Little Boy Lost

_A/N As I write this, I haven't seen "Lazarus Rising" yet. I've heard about it because my boyfriend (who saw it) is just cruel enough to tell me that I'll flip over the episode. I know, he's evil. Because of that, this goes AU after NRFTW. I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this story, only that it has been bugging me for a few months now and that I don't have a choice but to put it down. My muse is a fickle bitch over whom I have no control whatsoever._

Day 2

_I'm twenty-four years old, and I am an orphan. Strange how I never felt like one until my brother died. With my mother dead over twenty years, and my father gone two years, I never felt alone. Now I do. Somehow, I never completely realized just what Dean was to me until I held his cooling body in my arms. Until I felt his blood on my hands, until I looked into green eyes turned blind, and saw only myself. Only then did the world stopped. My life is now separated into chapters, much like the books my brother always teased me about. There's the Pre-Stanford years, the Stanford years, the Dean years and now, now are the Hell years. The ones I'll spend without my big brother around. There's a whole new calendar that started yesterday. And as much as I treasure the time I had with Dean, I doubt if I'll ever be able to look back on those years on the road without regrets. _

"Sam." Bobby stood in the doorway, his eyes on the last remaining Winchester. Sam was hunched against the wall, his gaze fixed on the body on the bed. To Bobby, it was a scene out of the past and when he met Sam's eyes, what he saw made him shiver. The look was eerily reminiscent of the one another Winchester wore a year ago, just before the fool sacrificed his soul in exchange for a life. A sacrifice Bobby was determined to see honoured, even if he had to beat Sam into submission.

Still, it was creepy the way this all felt like déjà vu. So even though he knew the answer he would get, Bobby said, "Sam, you know it's time, we have to burn the body, son."

"No." Sam straightened away from the wall, and started pacing, eyes on the floor. "All this time, and I never looked for a way to get him OUT of Hell. I only searched for a way to keep him away from it. There has to be a way to get him back, Bobby. And he'll need his body. There must be a spell, something that will keep him from decomposing. Can you hit the books? I'll patch him up." Suddenly, Sam was a flurry of movements. With his new mission set, he didn't intend to waste any time.

Bobby looked on as Sam started cleaning and bandaging wounds, as he stitched dead flesh together and as he applied antibiotic cream to lacerations. When Sam made to reset broken limbs, Bobby turned away, feeling slightly green.

As soon as the well-meaning mechanic was out of the room, Sam dropped his head, hands resting lightly on Dean's body.

"I know. He's only trying to help me. But I can't let you burn Dean, I just… I can't. Not you too. Mom, Jess, Dad. They all went up in flames. And I know you're in Hell, you probably have more than you share of fires, but… I just can't. I meant what I said to Bobby. I will find a way to get you out of there. I told you I would save you, and I will. Even if it's the last thing I do." His voice breaking on the last words and eyes already filling up again, Sam sighed.

With tender hands, he smoothed the stark bandages. He knew it was useless, that most likely, he wouldn't be able to get Dean out of Hell, but just in case he could… His brother would come back to a body as whole as he could manage it.

For maybe the first time ever, Sam really looked at his brother. Gone was the energy that was almost bigger than life, and with it, the cockiness that was all Dean, the charisma that attracted people to his brother. The face he knew as well as his own was suddenly alien to Sam in a way it had never been before. The freckles were standing out on skin made too pale by death, and there were suddenly a myriad of scars. It came as a shock to Sam that he didn't know the story behind all of them. His eyes took in the body of a warrior, one that had been broken and put back together more often than it should have. How had Dean gotten the scar that ran along his collarbone and how about that bullet hole on his tight?

As revelations often happens, out of a quiet mind, Sam suddenly realized that this man, this brother who had been father, mother, protector, was a mystery to him. That somehow, Dean had managed to hide himself even from his little brother.

_A/N __Story title is from a poem by Robert Frost while chapter title is by William Blake. Go read the Blake poem, I can't help but think of Dean when I read it…I'll try to update soon, but I can't guarantee anything. Some Feedback would be greatly appreciated!_


	2. And I Must Seek For Mine

A/N First of all, my deepest thanks to the kind people who took the time to leave me a review. I love you all. Once again, I have no idea where this is going. Chapter title is from a William Blake poem…again.

Day 5

_It's strange. It's been five days since my new world began. Five days, and it still feels like it was an hour ago. I can't seem to focus on anything. The research into getting Dean out of Hell is going slow. Not many leads, at least not many that my big brother would agree on. And some__how, I find myself wondering what he'd say about me trying to get him out. I can almost hear him and it freaks me out. I never realized before that my big brother was the voice inside my head, the one alternately urging me on and slowing me down. Maybe it's because he raised me, maybe it's because in our line of work, being attuned to one another is a necessity, maybe it's only because it's him. At the end of the day, I'm not sure if it's painful or if it's a comfort._

_The Impala is parked in front of Bobby's house and I can't make myself g__o near it. I want to sit in it, want to hear that damn mullet rock Dean liked to tortured me with, want to wake up with a spoon glued to my nose and see my brother's laughing eyes. I want so bad to just feel him next to me. Just to know that he's safe, that I'm safe. But the Impala, without her driver, just stops being home. It took me years to understand what that car meant to my brother, what it meant to me. It's the only real home we've ever had. Even the apartment I shared with Jess didn't feel like home. Maybe because it wasn't moving, because I couldn't see the trees flying by, because I couldn't hear Dean's fingers tapping the beat on the steering wheel. But now, the gleaming paint job has lost it's lustre, and the car that meant so much is just a pile of metal. Mocking me, reminding me every day that Dean will never drive her again. And the keys he gave me are burning me through my pocket._

_Bobby gave me an envelop from Dean this morning. I can't bring myself to open it…_

Bobby's words as he handed Sam the plain white envelop were nagging him. "Your brother….he left me something. Something he wanted me to give to you if…if we didn't find a way to stop this."

Hours later, and Sam was still staring at his messily scrawled name. His brother's distinct penmanship- atrocious- was calling to him. With a weary sigh, Sam rubbed his face before he carefully opened the envelop. With fingers that shook, he retrieved the loose sheets of paper from it, and smoothed them out.

_Hey Sasquatch._

_I'm not much for writing letters but knowing you, you're probably mopping around, with those big puppy eyes full of tears. Don't. Just go out, take the Impala for a ride, find a girl and GET LAID! Seriously dude, stop brooding. There's some stuff I need to tell you, some things I couldn't bring myself to talk to you about. Kept hoping we'd find a way out I guess. _

_I left some papers for you. They're in the hidden compartment of the Impala. The car papers for one and some bank info. The money is so you can go back to school. I don't care where, I don't care what you study, but do me a favour little bro, and get that fancy degree you've been talking about since you learned what a degree was. The money's legit, but the papers that come with them are not. You're supposed to be dead, and I figured it'd be hard for a dead man to go to college. So I got you an all new identity Sammy boy. If you keep hunting, be careful, don't take chances, and remember what Dad taught us. If you don't, I get it, I really do. I just hope you have that normal life you've been dreaming about. And if there should be a mini-Sammy, I fully expect you to give him my name._

_I'm not much on after-school moments, and I'm not much for words, you know that, but Sam?? I love you. And I'm proud of you little brother. I helped raise a hell of a man. _

_Dean._

_PS. Don't forget to clean the upholstery bitch!_

Sobs and laughter mixing, Sam dropped the letter. He rubbed his tired eyes, before he stood up and grabbed the keys that had only minutes before been a weight he didn't want to carry. Now, they were a precious treasure.

He was on the way out of the door before he turned around and carefully folded the pages back into the envelop. This was a letter he didn't intend to let go off.

End Notes: I'm amazed to be updating this soon. The chapters just seems to write themselves, but I can't guarantee that I'll always be this…generous. In fact, I shouldn't be able to offer anything more until next week. 'Til then, enjoy, and please, pretty pretty please, review!!


	3. Acquainted with the Night

_A/N I saw the first two episodes of season 4 this weekend. I was completely blown away by them. I'm hoping to be able to keep it from interfering with the story I've been meaning to write, but I have no idea if I'll manage. One thing's for sure, it inspired me;)_

Day 6

_My brother left me a letter. A letter I didn't expect, a letter I never would have hoped for. Dean has never been the most….literate of guys. He left me a bank account and the Impala. The car, I expected, since he gave me the keys before the Hellhounds came for him. The bank account however, is a surprise. The amount of that bank account… I just don't get. There's a lot of money in there, and Dean wrote that it was legit. I don't get how it could be. I don't know how he could have that kind of money. I spent the last 3 years with him, almost 24/7. Sleeping in crappy motel rooms, shopping in army surplus, in goodwill stores, buying cheap and making every cent stretch. I ragged on him because of the hustling, of the credit card scams, of the poker games. I saw him worry that we didn't have enough to fill the Impala's tank, and we slept in the car or in some empty houses more than our fair share of times. I watched as he slipped money into my wallet when he thought I wasn't looking, just to make sure I didn't know how broke we really were. _

_And all that time, he had money. Money that could put me through Law School easily. More than enough to support the both of us these last three years._

_I don't understand_.

"What's eating you up boy?" Bobby's voice startled Sam out of his musings.

"Nothing" He answered, his eyes on the papers he held in his hands.

"Come on, Sam, I know there's something wrong."

Sam's voice was quiet when he answered. "My brother is in Hell because of me, of course there's something wrong."

Bobby snorted.

"It ain't your brother that's bugging you."

When Sam answered, it was low, so low Bobby had to strain to understand.

"How did he get that much money Bobby? And why did he never tell me about it? Hell, why did he keep doing those credit cards scams? I don't get it."

"Ahhhhh. He left you the Sammy fund." Sam jerked.

"The what?"

Bobby sank down into a chair. This was going to be hard to explain and he cursed the oldest Winchester for having left that fun job to him.

"The Sammy Dream Fund". He took a deep breath before explaining. "Money Dean worked for since he realized you were a genius. I guess he never spent any of it. "

"I don't get it Bobby."

"You must have been…seven or eight years old when your brother heard some teacher talk about you. You were all staying with me at the time, and he came back from school that day, told me you were a genius, that you could be anything you wanted when you grew up. He was so proud of you he was almost bouncing. The next day, he took the money he'd made by mowing a neighbour's lawn and asked me if I could open a bank account for him. The kid knew your father wouldn't approve of his plans for you. After that day, he was relentless. He worked as many jobs as he could to put money away for you. Between the odd jobs, the studying and the hunting, I don't know when he slept."

"But. How did he manage to make so much money? He says it's all legit, that none of it comes from the scams, or hustling. How did I never realize he was working?" Sam asked. The puppy-eyed look that always got to Dean got to Bobby too and he found himself giving more information then he had intended to.

"You're not the only brilliant one in the family son. You're brother was as bright, if not more then you are. He just never showed it. And his smarts, he didn't get them in books, even if he studied like crazy, he got them on the street, he got them by watching. I've never seen someone so talented with anything mechanic. That EMF detector you tote everywhere? The one he made from a walkman, well, he didn't need plans to build it, he just…knew. He always did. Anything that has an engine, or is electronic, he could take apart and repair with his eyes closed. With talent like that, he could make money like it was raining down. He took every job that would hire him. Most of the work was temp work, the jobs no one else would take. The dangerous stuff, the messy stuff, he did it all. He got injured almost as often doing those things as he did while hunting. He managed to hide it from your Dad, and from you. Your brother was a damn fine man son. All he wanted was for you to be happy, for you to have what you wanted." By the end, Bobby's voice held the anger he'd held inside since the first time he'd patch Dean up, in secret from brother and father.

"If he had that money, if he worked so hard, why did he never tell me? And I don't understand how I never saw any of it. Bobby, are you sure all of the money is legit? I mean, I know Dean is more intelligent than he let on, but genius? Don't you think that's far fetched?"

Bobby stood up. "I could throttle you. Your brother is…was smarter than you are. He got offered full rides to several colleges, he could have used that money to bail on hunting, bail on you and John, and just get out of this life." Snatching a thick folder from underneath a pile of books, he threw it at Sam. "This is your brother Sam, and you wonder how you never knew. You never saw him. He was just convenient to you, and you were so blinded by your dreams of anything normal that you never thought about him. Have you forgotten that Dean wasn't there the night you left? He was working as a night guard that evening, and he came back to find you gone, and your father passed out. Shit Sam, it about killed that boy." The anger that had been boiling in Bobby for years was threatening to come out, and he turned around, heading out the door before he said something he would regret.

Sam, shocked by Bobby's outburst slowly lowered his eyes to the folder he held in his hands. His head aching from what he'd just heard, he opened the folder to find plans and magazine articles, things he had no clue about. Suddenly, Sam gasped. All of them were signed… D.Winchester.

_End Notes: I have no idea where this is going. The story just writes itself and I'm in shock. I've never written so quickly or easily in my life. Should be only a few chapters left, but really?? I don't know how many. Hope you enjoy. Chapter title from a Robert Frost poem. _


	4. Miles To Go

Chapter Note: Sorry about the delay in posting this one. Work has been crazy lately, and I haven't been able to focus on reading or writing as much as I would have liked. To all of those who took the time to review, I am beyond grateful. Mille mercis

Chapter 4: Miles to go

_Day__ 8_

_My brother was a genius. Huh. It still sounds funny to my ears. I always knew he was more intelligent than he let on. Sometimes, these last years, he'd say something, and he would get me by surprise. But he's always been a master at hiding and acting. That, I've known since I was a kid, since the first time I saw him hide an injury from Dad. But this. This is a surprise. I've spent the last days reading and tracking down his work. The articles in scientific magazines so advanced I only understand one word out of twelve, the patents for the equipment I've been using daily for the last 3 years. _

_I don't know my brother. Sometimes, I wonder if I ever did. _

_Would he have told me, at any point, that he was so…brilliant? I doubt it. Because as self-assured as Dean always looked, there was always this…darkness. As though he wouldn't believe he was worth anything, except as a hunter, except as my protector. I think that's my worst failing. Somehow, I'm starting to understand that as bad as my failure at keeping him out of Hell was, and is, the worst thing I've ever done as a brother is not tell him what he meant for me. I never showed him how much I admired him, how much I needed him. _

_Now, i__t's too late. My brother's gone to Hell for me, and I'll never get the chance to tell him how much I loved him. That without him, there's no Sam, because he raised me, he pushed me, and he loved me. _

_The work behind the Sammy Dream Fund is…astounding. The existence of the fund in itself… I've wondered for the last three years what my time at Stanford was like for my brother. For him to have held on the Fund all those years…_

"Bobby?" Sam hovered in the kitchen doorway. For an instant, he looked exactly as he had as a ten years old about to ask for something.

Bobby bit back the smile that wanted to peek through his scowl. He'd known this was coming ever since he'd nearly bitten Sam's head off two days before.

"What?"

"Dean…what…I mean, how was he when I was…" Sam stammered out awkwardly before he combed his fingers through his hair for the thousand time that day.

Bobby sighed. "How he was when you were dead you mean?"

Sam winced. " No, how was he when I was at school?" It was the safer subject because as much as he wanted to know about the time between being stabbed and waking up on the old stained mattress, he had the feeling that he wasn't quite ready to know how bad Dean had been. The resulting deal was picture enough of Dean's inability to cope.

Bobby bowed his head, hoping to hide the feelings that welled up when he thought of those dark first months. Somehow, the eldest of the Winchester brother had wormed his way deep into his heart.

"The first months…they weren't good Sam, he was either reckless or numb. He would throw himself in front of your father while on a gig, then he would drink himself silly for a straight week. It wasn't pretty Sam, believe me, it wasn't pretty at all." Bobby stood up, turning his back on Sam as he started pacing. "He got better slowly, either that or he got better at faking it. Actually, now that I think about it, he was probably faking it. But let's just say that your brother got more than his share of bruises these last years. And I know I wasn't around for most of those years because I kinda threw your daddy out on his ass, but I know it wasn't all sunshine and roses."

Sam rubbed his face. He had no trouble imagining what Bobby was telling him and it made him sick to think that Dean might have been seriously injured and he never would have known him. Hell, knowing his stubborn ass of a brother, he probably was seriously injured. He cursed under his breath and looked up at Bobby.

"Thanks Bobby. I just…I needed to know."

_I don't think I knew my brother, not before he died and went to Hell for me. __I will find a way to get my brother back. I have amends to do, so many things I wish I could have said to him. He never knew how much I missed him, how many times I almost called him when I was in Stanford. I took him for granted, and that's the thing I regret the most. And now, now that he's gone, I realized that everything I am, I owe to him. He was more father to me than Dad was, he was the one who really raised me, and the things he sacrificed, the things he did for me, I'll never be able to repay. So yes, I will find a way to get him out of Hell, because I can't imagine a world without my big brother in it. _

End Notes: Chapter title is from another Robert Frost poem. That line is one of my favourite ever, and even though I know it's been overused, I decided not to care. So this is the end. I know the story could go on, could go into Sam's search to get Dean out, but I like the "an angel yanked him out of Hell" plot.


End file.
